Saturday 1 March 2008

Salty Blues

(Bulgaro--Dui Chaves)

Horns of Whales.
Ocean Geysers.
Sonar...it slinks past the dunes
Down snaking trunks of trees.

At the roots, these spiral forces
examine earth worms
to see
if they have anything to contribute
beyond the holes they tunnel
so the earth can breathe
leaving a shellacked freeway
for some very lucky ants
and we can catch fish
if we need.

Hook it and cook it.
Sea Gypsy barbecue beach.
"They clicked us. We click them."
They have our souls on paper.
Tourists nude sunbathing on a sandbar
Planning to moon-gaze later from a two-man pup tent.
A breeze turns to a storm
And tears the Marley poster off the wall.
A ship's steering wheel for a table...
The Nikes bob like conkers as they hang from the ceiling...
Some gifts, some lost, some style
Say good bye
As the palms bend away from the waves
And their long-legged leaves rattle like Cherokees.
A weather war...
Surrounded by a salty blue 360 degrees

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